Designed for You
by JBS-Forever
Summary: It was a secret Ponyboy was never supposed to know about, but now, no matter how hard Darry and Sodapop try, they can't keep the truth from starting to slowly unravel around them– and they don't know much longer they can protect Ponyboy from it.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm taking a little break from "Begin Again" to write this short story. It won't be a long one. I will hopefully get back to the other story soon and decide for sure if I want to continue that one or not. **

**Anywayyy, this is a story that popped into my head randomly, so I decided to write it :)**

**Sorry for any spelling mistakes. It's really early in the morning and that's when I make the most mistakes. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

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"And she said, 'Two-Bit, if you're so smart, you come do it.' So I took the chalk and went up to the board. I mean, what else was I supposed to do? I clearly knew the subject better than she did."

I roll my eyes as we round the corner to my house. Two-Bit rambles on, but I'm not paying attention.

Sometimes, on rare days, when I get home from school both Sodapop and Darry are there. It doesn't happen often, because they both usually work later into the day and their schedules are so different, but there are times when Darry gets off early and Steve takes Sodapop shift right out of his last class. Today is one of those days.

"And I said, 'That, my dear, is how you master quantum physics.'"

Two-Bit pulls open the front door and follows me inside. The TV is on in the living room, but no one is around. It's not unusual. Sodapop doesn't sit still for long, so he's probably bugging Darry wherever he happens to be. I'm not even sure they're in the house at all. Sodapop has been fixing up an old car in the garage and spends a lot of time out there. Darry helps out sometimes, but mostly it's Steve who comes to tinker around.

Two-Bit drops himself down on the couch and I head to my room to throw my backpack inside and kick off my shoes. On the way back, I hear something in the kitchen and stop to listen. It's Darry and Sodapop. They are whispering loudly about something. It's not the first time I've caught them doing this.

Recently, Darry and Sodapop have been hiding something from me. I'm not sure what, but I often hear them talking in low voices to each other, sounding mad or urgent. No one will tell me what's going on. Not even Two-Bit knows. And honestly, it's becoming frustrating. I hate feeling like Sodapop doesn't trust me.

I can't make out what they're saying, so I step closer. The floor creaks under me and I hold my breath, but it's too late. They stop talking. I've been heard.

I push away from the wall and walk into the kitchen like nothing happened. They don't appear like they knew I was trying to listen, but both of them look strange.

"What's going on?" I ask, cautious of their stiffness.

"Nothing," Darry says sharply. "Go get ready for dinner."

I frown. "How does someone get ready to eat?"

He doesn't seem amused. "Go. Now."

I frown again and look at Sodapop. He won't meet my eyes. He's rocking back on his heels, stealing glances at the floor.

"What's going on with you two?"

"Ponyboy!" Darry snaps in frustration. Sodapop finally looks up at me, an apologetic look on his face. I feel my own face flush with anger and turn quickly, storming down the hall. I duck into my room and grab my shoes, slipping them on quickly before I stomp my way back out. Darry meets me in the living room, his arms crossed over his chest and his face hard. Two-Bit watches us curiously.

"Where are you going?" Darry asks.

"You wanna keep secrets? Fine," I say, grabbing the doorknob. The metal feels cool under the heat of my frustration. "But don't get mad when I do the same."

And I slam the door so loud that it drowns out anything else Darry has to say.

XxX

"Where could he have gone?" I ask, slamming the phone into its cradle and looking at my watch. It's been a couple hours since Ponyboy disappeared and no one has heard from him. Two-Bit, obviously having caught onto our tension, decided to leave a while ago.

"Chill, Dar," Sodapop says from his spot on the couch. "It ain't like he's running away again."

"How do you know?"

"He's just mad. He needs some space."

"He's moody," I say. Sodapop rolls his eyes.

"This ain't teenager hormones. He's upset. He knows we're keeping something from him and he wants to know what it is."

I sigh and scrub my face roughly. "I know, but we can't tell him. This is just getting too close to us. We have to be careful."

"I know," Soda says softly. "If he were to figure it out…"

He trails off into silence. He doesn't need to finish the thought, though. We both know it could be disastrous if Ponyboy were to find out.

"We need to get this away from us," I say. "Far away."

Sodapop nods. "We will, Darry. We will."

XxX

Sometime later, I stumble into the house out of breath. I don't know how long I've been gone, but I know it's been long enough to make Darry worry– which means he's going to mad. He's always mad, though.

As soon as I open the door, he's on his feet, his voice hard. "Where have you been?"

"Running," I say, moving past him to go to the kitchen. He follows me, Sodapop lingering behind slowly. I snatch a glass from the cupboard and fill it with water in the sink.

"You can't just run out like that without telling me where you're going," Darry says angrily. Sodapop is leaned up against the doorway.

"Fine," I say.

"Do you understand how dangerous that is?"

"I got it, Darry. I won't do it again."

Sodapop eyes me carefully as I take a long drink of water. Darry isn't finished.

"Damn right you won't do it again," he says. "You're grounded."

I pour the rest of the water out and set the glass down. "Fine."

Darry gapes at me for a few seconds, obviously not sure what to do when I don't fight back. Finally he grumbles out, "Fine" and storms off. Sodapop, however, stays in his spot, watching me.

"What was that?" he asks. I lean back against the counter.

"What?"

"You know what."

"No, I don't."

"Look," he sighs, stepping forward. "I know you're upset, but…"

I raise my eyebrows and wait for him to go on. "But what?"

"There are some things that Darry and I can't protect you from. And you know just as well as I do that it drives Darry crazy. This is something we _can_ protect you from, so we are. You have to understand we're just looking out for you."

I rub my eyes wearily. "Why can't you just tell me? I'm not a child anymore, Sodapop."

Sodapop smiles and ruffles my hair, making me scowl. "Yeah, you are, Ponyboy. You just need to trust me. You _do_ trust me, don't you?"

"Yeah, of course," I say miserably.

"Then do it. We know what we're doing."

I sigh. "Fine, Sodapop."

He eyes me again, but this time he's suspicious. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

"Nope."

He sinks back and shakes his head. He doesn't say anything else before he leaves the kitchen, and I watch him go, wondering how long it will take before I figure this thing out.

XxX

The next few days are tense. Ponyboy is quiet with us and we have to be careful whenever we talk to make sure that he's not hiding around the corner listening. Soda and I usually resort to talking in the garage while he works on the car he's fixing up.

It's after work one day when Ponyboy approaches me. I'm reading the paper and Sodapop and Steve are on the couch, arguing about some show they're watching. Two-Bit's making a mess in the kitchen, chiming in whenever he feels like one of the two boys is making a good point.

"What's this?" Ponyboy asks. I lower the paper and look at him. He's holding a letter addressed to me from a hospital in Oklahoma City. My eyes widen in horror and I snatch the envelope from him.

"Did you open this?" I ask, flipping it over frantically to check. He shakes his head.

"Of course not. What is it?"

"Nothing," I say quickly. Sodapop glances over at me as Steve shouts something to Two-Bit. I flash the envelope towards him and see his look as I get up and head down the hall. I close myself in my room and make sure I can still hear Ponyboy in the living room before I open the note and scan the contents.

I hear a knock and then Sodapop slips in the room, closing the door behind him. He comes over and sits on the bed next to me.

"What's it say?" he asks. I sigh and hand him the letter.

"They're looking for Ponyboy again."

Sodapop runs a hand over his face and sets the letter down. "What're we gonna do? You already wrote them. Why're they bothering us again?"

"I don't know, Soda, but we need to make sure he doesn't get the mail anymore. He might try to open one of these."

Sodapop shakes his head. "He wouldn't open something addressed to you. He knows that's wrong."

"One might come addressed to him," I say. "It's happened before."

He sighs and gets to his feet. "I'll keep an eye out. I'm gonna go back out there before he gets suspicious."

I nod and watch him go. Picking up the letter, I look at it one last time before I rip it into pieces and throw it in the trash.

So much for getting this far away from us.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay! Glad you guys are liking this and it's fun reading your guesses as to what the secret is.**

**Also, Ponyboy is 15 in this, so he's still a kid. I just realized that I might not ever state what his age is, so I thought I'd state it here.**

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

**Yay!**

**Enjoy.**

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The phone ringing wakes me up. I roll over and try to go back to sleep, but no one seems to be stopping the annoying sound. Lifting my head, I look over and notice that Sodapop is still out cold next to me. The sun is just beginning to rise and it's shining through the curtains. It's too early for this.

I pull myself out of bed and start tiredly down the hall. I finally reach the phone and pick it up.

"Hello?" I ask, yawning.

"Good morning," a cheerful and professional voice says. "Is Darrel Curtis home?"

"He's asleep right now," I say. "Can I ask why you're calling?"

"I'm from St. Anthony Hospital. We've sent a few letters to Darrel, but he hasn't responded to us. We were hoping we could–"

Before I can hear what they are hoping for, the phone is suddenly snatched away from me and I jump back in shock. Darry pushes me down the hall, shooing me away with a motion of his hand, and starts talking to the lady. I inch away slowly and try to listen to what he's saying, but he's talking too softly for me to make it out. He hangs up the phone a second later and returns.

"Go back to sleep," he says.

"I'm not tired anymore."

"Fine. Go make breakfast or something. I'm going back to sleep."

I follow him down the hall and into his room, stopping at the doorway. "Who was that, Darry?"

"No one," he says, pulling back his covers. "Don't worry about it."

But I _am_ worried. "Why were they calling from St. Anthony? That's in Oklahoma City. What did they want with you?"

"Nothing, Ponyboy. Just go lay back down."

"Darry!" I nearly yell. "Just tell me what's going on! Are you….are you sick?"

Darry sighs and comes over to me. He rests his hands on my shoulders, looking me in the eyes. "I'm not sick, Ponyboy. I promise. And it's nothing. It's just a mix up that I'm getting fixed. Now go back to bed."

I look at him for a long moment before I sigh in defeat. "Fine. Whatever."

But instead of going back to bed, I go to my room and shake Soda's shoulder.

"Soda."

"What?" he moans, not moving.

"Is Darry sick?"

"No. Go back to sleep."

"Are _you_ sick?" I ask fearfully.

"No, Pone."

"Someone from St. Anthony called," I say. "You know, the hospital in Oklahoma City."

"Mmm," Soda says sleepily.

"Soda." I shake him again, desperately. "Why is someone from the hospital calling for Darry?"

I feel Soda go tense beneath my hand and then he lets out a swear word, pushing himself up. He looks worried. "Ponyboy, did you talk to the person on the phone?"

"Only for a second," I say in confusion. "Darry came and took the phone away."

Soda seems to breathe a sigh of relief. He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. "Listen, Ponyboy, it's nothing to worry about. Darry is getting it handled. No one is sick."

"But why're they calling?"

"Don't worry about it, kiddo." He collapses back onto his stomach and falls asleep second later.

I sigh.

XxX

I wake up stretched across an empty bed. Pushing myself up with a yawn, I look over at the clock and see that it's nearly noon. I don't know how late Darry and I stayed up last night trying to figure out what to do about our situation, but I guess it left me more tired than I thought.

Darry is whistling in the kitchen and cooking something that's making the whole house smell delicious. The TV is paying softly in the living room, which means no one but Ponyboy is watching it. When it's loud, it's because Two-Bit or Steve is over, and they have a tendency to crank anything that makes noise just for the sake of having noise.

I roll out of bed and throw on some clothes before making my way down the hall. When I get to the living room, I realize I was only half right; Ponyboy is the one who has the TV on, but he's not watching it. He's sprawled across the sofa, sound asleep.

"Soda!" Darry calls. "Come get some food."

I reach over and nudge Ponyboy. "Pone, lunch time."

He mumbles something, but doesn't move. I shrug and head to the kitchen where Darry is piling food onto a plate.

"Why's Ponyboy sleeping on the couch?" I ask, grabbing a plate of my own and following Darry's actions.

"Dunno," he says. "He went out there this morning after that phone call. Probably just fell asleep watching TV. It was pretty early."

My eyes widen. "The phone call, I forgot. Why was someone calling here?"

"Why do you think?" Darry steps out my way and takes his plate out to the table. He returns a second later and pulls the milk from the fridge. "I told them to stop calling, but they really want to ask me a bunch of questions."

"Well why not just let them?" I ask. "Answer the questions and tell them to leave us alone."

Darry shakes his head. "It's not that simple. They want Ponyboy to come down there. Something about new technology and tests. They want to make sure everything is still okay with him and see if they can figure out if there's something they could have done different."

"There's nothing they could of done different," I say, hearing the sharpness in my voice. I cringe and rock back on my heels, looking down.

"I know, Soda," Darry says softly. "And I know it's a touchy subject for us, but what mom and dad did was something that people don't do often. These people are curious about that. They think of it more like a science experiment."

"Ponyboy is not a science experiment!" I explode. Darry nearly drops the milk as he shoves a hand over my mouth.

"Soda!" he hisses. "Be quiet."

We stay still for a moment and listen to make sure Ponyboy isn't awake, but we can hear him stirring.

"Stay cool," Darry whispers, heading to the fridge to return the milk. Ponyboy stumbles in a second later, rubbing his eyes.

"Who's yelling?" he asks. Darry feigns a look of confusion.

"No one," he says. "Want some lunch?"

Ponyboy looks between us suspiciously before he shrugs. "Sure, whatever."

He grabs a plate and starts into some of the food, and I sigh in relief, sharing a quick glance with Darry who looks like he feels the same.

XxX

"Pass it here!" Soda yells. Darry chucks him the football, trying to avoid Steve, who is getting ready to tackle him.

"Maybe you're adopted," Two-Bit suggests. We watch the game from our spots by the house, both of us sitting on the grass, leaned up against the wall. I roll my eyes.

"Not possible."

"Why not?'

"Because everyone says I look like Soda," I say. "And it might be possible that both Soda and I are adopted except for the fact that Soda looks like Darry. So it could be possible we're all adopted if you exclude the fact that Darry was the mirror image of my dad. That all can't be coincidence."

Two-Bit smiles. "Well I can tell you haven't been obsessing about this."

I stick my tongue out at him. He chuckles and watches Sodapop race through the yard, dodging Steve and Darry.

"Maybe I'm sick," I say absently.

"I don't think so," Two-Bit says. "You rarely ever catch anything, and if you were terminally ill, we would have seen it by now. I had an aunt who was sick and she just keep getting worse. We all could see it."

"Hmm." I sigh deeply and tilt my head back against the wall.

"St. Anthony," Two-Bit mutters, appearing thoughtful. He shrugs. "Maybe you should just call them and ask."

"But they're looking for Darry," I say, glancing over at him. "I'm not Darry."

"Guys!" Soda calls. "Come play! We need backup!"

Two-Bit rises and extends a hand out, pulling me to my feet. He gives me a kind of devilish grin and leans close so no one else can hear.

"Lie."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

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I pace back and forth in front of the phone. I reach for it, pull my hand back, then reach for it again before deciding not to pick it up. I commence pacing again.

A big part of me wants to know what's happening. Wants to know why a hospital is calling for Darry and why no one will tell me what's going on. But a bigger part of me can't pick up the phone. Can't lie to my brothers and go behind their backs. They're all I have. And as much as Two-Bit might berate me for it, I can't do it.

Not this time.

I head down the hall and peak into Darry's room, making sure he's still asleep. Sodapop gave him one of his famous massages–the kind that knocks him out. He needs more sleep anyway. He works too hard.

I quietly close his door and then make my way outside to the garage where Sodapop is working on his car. He's underneath it when I get there, humming along to a song that's playing on the radio.

"Hey, Soda," I say, sitting down on the bench.

"Hey, kiddo," he replies.

"How's the car coming?"

"It's coming," he says, sliding out into view. He sits up and wipes his hands on a rag. "You wanna help?"

"Uh." I cringe. "No."

Soda smiles. "It ain't hard. If I can do it, you can."

"That's okay," I say. He shrugs and gets up to find something on the other side of the garage. I watch him silently.

"What's a matter?" he asks, glancing back at me. I shake my head.

"Nothing. Can't I come sit out here with you?"

"You can," he says, smiling. "But you don't."

I sigh and wring my hands together, looking at the floor. I can feel his eyes on me.

"What is it?" he asks with concern.

"I could call them," I blurt out, not looking up. "I could call the hospital and ask what they want with Darry."

Sodapop is quiet for a long moment. "Why don't you?"

"Because I want you to tell me," I say. "I want to hear it from you or Darry, not some person I don't know."

"Ponyboy," he sighs. He comes over and sits next to me, and I finally look at him. "You didn't come out here to threaten me. You're scared to know, ain't you?"

"A little," I admit. He gives me a soft smile and wraps an arm around me, pulling me close.

"When did trusting me not become enough?" he asks. His tone his light, but it still makes me cringe, hitting a strong chord in my heart.

"I _do_ trust you," I whisper. "But something isn't okay, and you won't tell me what."

"Everything is okay," he says. "There are just things from the past that need to stay in the past."

I sigh deeply. "That's helpful. Thanks."

"I get it, Pone," he says gently. "Really, I do. But if you knew, you would wish you didn't. And you can't take it back after that. You need to trust me when I say it ain't worth it."

I look at the ground miserably. Somewhere deep inside, I know Sodapop is right, but the curiosity is killing me.

"You promise everything is okay?" I ask.

"I promise, Ponyboy."

"Then I'll let it go," I say, knowing it's time to give up the fight.

XxX

"Ponyboy's still asleep," Soda says, coming into the kitchen. I lean back against the counter and cross my arms over my chest.

"So he threatened to call the hospital?" I ask. Sodapop shrugs.

"No," he says. "But he warned me he could. He won't, though."

"How do you know?"

"He told me he's scared to know. It's why he hasn't called."

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. Before I can say anything, Soda speaks again. "He told me he's gonna let it go."

I look at him skeptically. "He did?"

He nods. "I told him it's something he won't want to know once he does and he won't be able to take it back. He made me promise everything was okay and said he'd let it go."

"Do you think he will?"

"I do," he says. "But we gotta keep them away from us. No more phone calls or letters. It's harder for Ponyboy to forget about it if they're always bugging us."

"I'm working on it," I say bitterly. Sodapop smiles.

"I know, Darry."

"Well." I sigh and push myself away from the counter. "I guess we go on with our lives then."

"I guess we do."

XxX

In the next week, things go back to normal. Things break in the living room, the stereo and TV are always blaring, and Sodapop and Darry stop sneaking around so much.

I've almost forgotten entirely about the secret until the phone rings one day when no one besides me and Two-Bit are home. Two-Bit is stuffing his face with chocolate cake, so I grab the receiver and pick it up, too entertained and disgusted by my friend's actions to really pay attention to who's on the other line.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is Ponyboy Curtis available?"

"This is him," I say, making a face at Two-Bit, who sticks a tongue covered with half-chewed food out at me. I shove my hand over the mouth of the receiver. "You're disgusting."

"What?" Two-Bit asks, spitting out chunks of cake. "You don't like 'see-food'?"

I roll my eyes and realize the lady on the phone is still talking to me. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah, sorry," I say quickly. "What were you saying?"

"I'm from St. Anthony Hospital," the lady says. "We're calling because we'd like you to come down so we can run some tests. We've recently gotten some new equipment and we're very eager to put it to use. With your history, you're really one of the best candidates. We'd also like to make sure you're still healthy and well. "

I can feel my face draining of color. Two-Bit suddenly becomes serious and swallows his food quickly, hurrying over to me.

"What's wrong?" he asks. "Who is it?"

"Someone from St. Anthony," I whisper, feeling my chest tighten. "They ain't looking for Darry. They're looking for me."

"Hang up, Ponyboy," Two-Bit says gently. When I don't move, he pries the phone from my fingertips and brings it to his own ear.

"He's gonna have to call you back," he tells the lady, then listens for a moment. "Sure. Okay. Bye."

He hangs up and I back away, shaking my head. He pushes me over to the couch and we both take a seat.

"What did they want from you?" he asks. I swallow hard and rub my forehead.

"To run some tests. Something about having new technology and me being the perfect person. They said they wanted to make sure I was still healthy." I look at Two-Bit worriedly. "_Still_ healthy?"

Two-Bit's eyes are wide and his face is pale. Coming from a boy who is never serious, it's an eerie look. "Maybe you _are_ sick," he says.

I moan and bury my face into my hands. "I don't feel good."

XxX

It's sometime later after I've fallen asleep on the couch that I'm woken by the sound of harsh whispering.

"What do you mean?!"

I recognize the first voice as Two-Bit. He sounds mad, angry. Darry's irritated voice comes back.

"It's nothing to worry about, Two-Bit."

"If he's sick, he deserves to know."

"He's not sick," Darry says shortly.

"Then why are they calling him? Why do they want to run tests on him? What is going on, Darry?"

There's a long silence. I want desperately to roll over and see what's going on, but I don't want to interrupt either. I don't want them to stop talking. Maybe Darry will tell Two-Bit what's going on.

"Don't worry about it," Darry says again, his voice hard. "Just leave it alone."

I sigh. I can almost feel Two-Bit going tense.

"I'm not going to leave it alone," he says. "I hope you know that."

There's a slam of the door as who I assume is Sodapop comes into the house. Following another brief moment of silence, he speaks.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," Darry says. "We'll talk about it later. I don't want to wake Ponyboy up."

"Cause you don't want him asking questions," Two-Bit mutters.

"Questions about what?" Sodapop asks. "And why's he sleeping anyway?"

"Questions about the phone call he got from someone at St. Anthony saying they want to run tests on him and make sure he's still healthy," says Two-Bit. "And he doesn't feel good."

Both Two-Bit and I wait for some kind of reaction–something to tell us that Soda and Darry are worried that I don't feel well. That it could be bad.

But it doesn't happen.

"Darry, you said they wouldn't call here anymore," Soda says. Darry snaps back at him.

"I can't control what they do, Sodapop. I told them not to call. They called again, but for Ponyboy, and he answered the phone. I can't be here all the time to intercept phone calls."

I finally roll over and sit up, hoping I can stop this before it turns into a fight. Darry looks over at me and then crosses his arms over his chest.

"Great," he says. "I'm guessing you heard all of that?"

I nod. He lets out a frustrated sigh and rubs his face.

"Fine," he says, looking over at Soda. "Let's tell him."

"What?" Soda and I ask at the same time, but he keeps going. "Darry, we can't. We–"

"Soda," Darry interrupts. "He's gonna find out eventually. They're gonna call him and send him letters. He already knows too much. We might as well tell him."

Sodapop gapes for words. It's one of the rare times where reality is hitting him hard. Finally he throws his hands up in defeat, looking absolutely miserable.

"Fine."

Darry pats him on the shoulder and comes over to me. He sits down next to me while Sodapop sits on the edge of the coffee table. Two-Bit stays towards the back of the room.

Darry sighs. "Ponyboy…"


	4. Chapter 4

**One more chapter after this. Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! **

**Enjoy!**

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The air around us is thick and I wish Darry would talk, but he doesn't. He bites his lip and taps his finger against his thigh as though he doesn't know what he wants to say. My heart beats so hard in anticipation that I can't breathe.

"Darry," I choke out. He looks up at me and nods.

"A long time ago," he says, taking a deep breath. "You…_we_…had another brother."

I frown. "What?"

"His name was Tommy."

Soda makes a weird noise and runs his hands over his face. I look back at Darry dumbly, not getting the joke.

"What're you talking about?"

"Tommy was two years older than you," Darry continues. "But…he died when he was four."

"I…" I gape for words, feeling a numb sensation spreading through me. My voice comes out without me thinking about it. It sounds far away. "I…I don't understand. How did he…die?"

This time Darry falls silent. He looks at Sodapop helplessly and I feel fear deep inside my bones. It's not a joke anymore.

"Soda?" I ask. He sighs deeply. The look on his face tells me doesn't want to be part of this conversation– that he's spent years purposefully not talking about this, and now he has to.

"Tommy was sick," Soda says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mom and dad…they thought…they were told…none of us were matches for him, Ponyboy. We didn't have the same marrow or any of that stuff he would need."

He pauses for a long moment and I've almost convinced myself he's not going to keep talking when he seems to compose himself enough to go on.

"Mom and dad were told that if they had another baby, they might have another chance to find a match," he says. "It was likely the new baby would have more in common with him than me and Darry did. They thought the baby would be able to give him things he needed– transfusions, transplants. Things that Tommy couldn't reproduce, but the new baby could."

"But the new baby couldn't," Darry chimes in softly, relieving Sodapop of his obvious misery. I'm too shocked to move enough to see if Two-Bit is even still in the room. "The new baby wasn't a full match to Tommy, and…there was only so much we could do for him with such little resources. There weren't a lot of people willing to donate and do these painful things. We got what we could from the new baby, but it wasn't enough. Tommy was too sick."

All the air leaves my chest. Everything hurts, but I'm too numb to cry. I feel like I might be sick. Like I might pass out. My heart aches.

"I was the new baby, wasn't I?" I ask hoarsely. Darry nods silently. "I was…a…a designer baby?"

He looks confused. "A what?"

"I was designed to be spare parts," I whisper. "I was here so Tommy would live and he didn't."

"Ponyboy," he starts, resting a hand on my shoulder. "You have to understand that mom and dad loved you a lot. They didn't have you just so you would keep Tommy alive. They knew it was only a chance. They still wanted another baby."

I take a few deep breaths. My mind is racing and my heart is pounding loudly in my ears. I think I might actually be sick.

"Please don't touch me," I whisper. Darry moves his hand away and I stand up, feeling dizzy. Sodapop stands, too.

"You have to believe us, Ponyboy," he says through tears. Seeing Sodapop cry is one of the most devastating things in the world, but it's not even scratching the pain inside me. "Mom and dad loved you so much. That's why they didn't want to tell you yet."

"Why should I believe you?" I snap, my emotions coming out full force. I start hyperventilating. Sobbing without actually crying, just going through the motions. "You've both lied to me all my life."

Darry gets to his feet. "I know you're upset, but–"

"Please," I beg, raising my hand to stop him. "Just don't. I need….I need to be alone."

Sodapop is looking at me through tear stained eyes like I'm an injured animal. Maybe I am. My chest is heaving and it's only in this moment that I realize I can't get in a full breath of air. I stumble backwards and then rush to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind me. I sink to the floor and bury my face into my knees.

I start sobbing. Real sobbing this time. The kind that hurts your throat and your face and every part of you. I feel bile rise from my stomach and launch myself in front of the toilet just in time to throw up everything left in my heart.

I lean back against the wall and hiccup my way closer to hysterics. I bury my face into my knees again.

My parents only wanted me so I could fix Tommy. I was born to help him, and I couldn't even do that. I can't do anything. I was designed for someone else. I never really existed by alone. I can see that now.

I understand why the hospital keeps calling. Parents don't normally have a new baby to save another one of their children. The amount of tests and procedures they must have tried on me is something I can't imagine.

"Ponyboy," a voice says softly, following a knock on the door. "Open up."

I don't say anything. I wrap my arms around my legs and wish desperately that I could disappear.

"Pone, c'mon, kiddo. Open the door."

The voice is Darry's. I wonder if Sodapop is too upset to try to talk to me. Soda has always been more emotional than he likes to let on. I know how much this must be hurting him. How much it must have always hurt him.

Darry knocks again, but I ignore him. I slide down onto my side and curl in on myself as I wrap my arms around my stomach.

I cry until I pass out from sheer exhaustion.

XxX

Sometime later I'm woken by the sound of someone picking the lock to the bathroom. I feel Darry's strong arms scoop me up from my spot on the floor and then he carries me down the hall. I'm too tired to protest, so I keep my eyes closed and listen to Sodapop talk quietly as he walks along with us.

Darry tosses me onto my bed and the covers are pulled over me. I roll onto my side and bury my face into my pillow, drifting back to sleep to the gentle sound of Sodapop murmuring things I can't understand.

I dream of Tommy. He's the age he would be now if he was still alive.

I'm in my room when there's a knock on the door and he enters. I turn around and frown. Because I've known him all my life, I can tell when something's wrong. He doesn't look good. He's too pale, too serious.

"What's wrong?" I ask. "Are you okay?"

He shakes his head. I move closer.

"What happened?"

He opens his mouth, but when his lips move, no sound comes out. I freeze in horror. He doesn't seem aware of the fact that I can't hear him and I wonder momentarily if I've gone deaf.

"Tommy," I choke out. "You're not saying words."

His eyes widen and he brings his hands up in front of him, staring at them in shock. They don't look different at first, but then I notice they are turning purple and blue. I rush forward and grab his wrists, getting a better look.

When I look up at his face, he's even paler than before. He opens his mouth again and blood leaks out from the corners of his mouth. I release him slowly.

"I…I need to get help."

He shakes his head and steps in front of the doorway to block me. The blood starts dripping down from his eyes.

"Tommy," I breathe, "I need to get help."

"You could have saved me," he whispers, and his voice sounds oddly like that of a child. I take a step back in terror.

"W-what?"

"I could have lived," he says, as though he's unaware of the mass of blood that's pooling on the ground beneath him. He keeps his eyes locked on mine, but they're empty, hollow. "You could have saved me."

I feel tears rising. "I–I still can save you. Let me get help."

"It's too late," he says. "You're too late. You should have saved me."

"Tommy." I let out a sob. "I'm so sorry. I wanted to save you."

He nods and reaches out to rest his hand on my cheek. His fingers are cold like ice.

"Ponyboy," a new voice says. Tommy drops his hand and starts to back away from me.

"Don't leave me," I beg. "Please, Tommy."

"You didn't save me," he says. "You have to go."

I move to protest, but everything around me starts melting, the colors dripping on the floor. Tommy almost seems to crumble into pieces, each part of him breaking down.

"No!" I yell, grasping for him desperately.

"Ponyboy, wake up."

The room fades to black and I feel someone shaking me gently. I open my eyes and I'm greeted by the dim light of the moon shining through my window. It takes me a moment to realize I'm crying, sobbing.

"Ponyboy?"

I sit up and cover my mouth. Closing my eyes, I will myself to calm down. Someone puts a hand on my back and rubs circles. It's Sodapop.

"What'd you dream of?" he asks gently.

"Tommy," I choke out before I can stop myself. "He was bleeding and dying and I couldn't save him."

Sodapop wraps his arms around me and pulls me back into his chest. "I'm so sorry, Ponyboy."

I don't say anything. I should have listened when he told me there were good reasons they didn't wanna explain what was going. I should have dropped it. I should have let the phone ring and let Darry take over. Sodapop was right; now that I know, I don't want to know.

And I can't take it back.


End file.
